Carrie had suggested we go for a ride in her new two door BMW coupe.
In the parking lot we slipped into her bucket seats. Carrie took over from there.
At nearly 90 miles per hour she zipped us up to that windy edge known to some as Mulholland
a sinuous road running the ridge of the Santa Monica Mountains.
Where she then proceeded to pump her vehicle in and out of turns.
Sometimes droping down to 50 miles per hour, only to immediately gun it back up to 90 again.
Fast, slow. Fast, fast. Slow.
Sometimes were wide turns. Sometimes a quick one.
She preferred the tighter ones, the sharp controlled jerk swinging left to right before driving back to the right.
Only so she could do it all over again.
Until after enough speed, and enough wind and more distance then I'd been prepared to expect.
Taking me to parts of the city I rarely think of and never visit, I heard her say...
